


Redefinition

by borlaaq



Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Crying During Sex, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Double Vaginal Penetration, Finger Sucking, Foursome, Gangbang, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Slight Cum Inflation, Sloppy Makeouts, Spit As Lube, Spoilers for Bag a Legend Conclusion, Trans Male Character, because everyone goes surpised pikachu when they read it, despite all those tags this is somehow fluffy, kind of, no actual fleshlights are used its a kinky simile, some very slight transformation, the use of the word fleshlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23922580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borlaaq/pseuds/borlaaq
Summary: The Vake is drawn to you. It longs for you.
Relationships: Seeker of Mr Eaten's Name/Mr Veils (Fallen London)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Redefinition

**Author's Note:**

> There was so much homoerotic subtext in Bag a Legend that I’m shaking. 

Emil would chew April out afterwards. She couldn't even bother to warn him that the Bomb would make  _ more _ Vakes? As if Veils' wasn't annoying enough as a singular, now Emil is trekking through the thick forests of Parabola hunting  _ three _ .

(And it wasn’t meant to happen this way and he’s trying to replace the hurricane of emotions he feels with rage and hunting and really is he all that different from Veils in that regard? He’s become a monster too.)

Does Parabola really have to be so humid? His hair is a frazzled disaster. He should have brought a hat. He's sweating and his clothes are sticking to him. He's long since taken off his waistcoat but his white shirt is practically see-through. 

He's knee deep in what could be a swamp when he sees the shadow of wings. He's been hunting Curator Veils first, mostly because it's the biggest and easiest to see. He watches it circle a few times before flying deeper in. It doesn't seem to give him a second thought. It doesn't see him as a threat. Which is fine by Emil. He'd rather fight it in its nest than in a swamp. 

When he locates the Curator's nest, it's empty. There's kills hanging up, waiting to be flayed, but a startling lack of a Vake. No doubt out getting another prize on the wrong day. Emil grumbles, setting up his own camp nearby.

He's nearly ready to just head to bed, exhausted, when he hears something behind him. He grabs his harpoon, not even turning to look. He can smell Veils: musk, ozone, ice.

“Glad of you to join me. Shall we do this the correct way or the fun way?” He glances back then, only to see Veils of the Surface. “What–” His sentence is cut short when something massive rams into his back, sending him falling at the feet of the almost-human Veils. Its teeth are too sharp as it kneels, pulling up Emil's chin. The wind is knocked out his lungs and he sputters for breath. 

"Oh, I think we shall do it the fun way." It purrs. Emil bares his teeth and jerks his face out of Veils' grip. Then there's claws on his hips, encompassing his whole waist. He hears his pants rip before he realizes what is happening. He glances behind him to see Curator Veils trying to mount him. It's huge cock slips between his thighs and the Curator presses its chest against Emil's back. 

“You can't be serious." Emil hisses. “Am I  _ that _ irresistible?”

“Cease your prattle!" Surface Veils snarls, slamming its cane into Emil’s shoulder, forcing him closer to the ground. “That  _ should _ concern you. But you have never been very smart so I’ll spell it out for you. In Parabola: something as simple as filling your cunt can have lasting effects.” It spits the words, as if speaking so blunt and filthy is below it.

A pause, it grinds the cane into his shoulder and Emil finally relents and presses his face to the dirt underneath him. He can feel the hot breath of the Curator panting above him, wet drool dripping against his back. A claw moves down the center of his back, shredding his shirt and making him shudder. It's just gentle enough not to draw blood. 

The Intriguer lets out a pleased hum once Emil stops struggling. “You have redefined Veils. We will redefine Emil.”

He swallows, not sure what to think of that. There's fear and heat twisting in his stomach. He doesn't have time to even think of a response, however, because the Curator is grinding their cocks together, trying to enter him. It's bigger than Veils is normally when they fuck but the barbs catch on Emil's dick and make him moan. 

“Be polite and prepare him first,” Surface Veils scoffs. 

The Curator growls, jerking its hips forward. “This is Parabola. He can take it.” It's not spoken in English, not even the Correspondence, but instead something even older. Still, Emil can understand it. The fragments are united only enough to want to fuck Emil, it seems. He wiggles a bit awkwardly, stuck in a stand off between the two. 

Finally, the Curator seems to relent. It pulls back and Emil wonders if he could try and escape. The cane is still pressed to his back and as he’s turning the idea of fleeing over in his head, he feels humid heat against his backside. He flinches. Curator Veils noses his cunt, the sensation like electricity through his veins. It drags its tongue over him, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva. Emil’s thighs shake. His legs and arms suddenly feel heavy.

“Curator saliva has a bit of a… neurotoxin in it.” Surface Veils explains. “Makes it easier to hunt. However, we are also in Parabola, so everything changes based on our desires. I expect you to feel some, perhaps,  _ atypical _ effects.” Emil can’t see the smirk but he can  _ hear _ it. 

And yes, the heat pooling in his gut and the way his cock throbs definitely doesn’t seem like something typical of a toxin. He’s practically dripping in a matter of moments. Curator Veils sniffs loudly, giving out a low noise that could be a laugh. It makes a show of dragging the pad of a finger through his gathering wetness and smearing it across his skin. The more-human Veils moves to the side to get a better look. 

"Excitable as always." 

Emil can't even reply. The Curator shifts a bit, pulling him by the hips. He can’t see but wet warmth is all around him. It takes him a moment to realize that his hips are  _ inside _ Veils’ mouth. He feels its teeth move to hold him still, his thighs on either side of its head. Then the tongue is back, spreading his cunt open. He jerks his hips forward out of instinct, letting out a whine. Teeth catch on his skin and the Curator growls when it tastes blood. It tightens its jaws down, just enough to warn him to hold still. Its tongue presses deep into his cunt, stretching him. 

The appendage grows increasingly thick and the saliva coats every inch of the inside of his cunt. It makes him sensitive and his muscles tighten. Veils knows exactly how to touch him to make his vision blur. 

“Stop holding back.” Veils of the Surface says, head tilted. Emil lifts his head to spit out a curse but the words die in his throat when he notices the obvious bulge in its slacks. It cracks a grin full of fangs. “Cum and maybe I’ll let you touch me.”

He drops his head back to the ground and the Curator thrusts its tongue in even deeper. It folds it over, adding girth, and Emil can’t do anything but attempt to muffle his moans as he cums. The feeling is prolonged by the Curator’s continued movement of its tongue. He tries to jerk away, the sensation growing painful in his state, but Veils' maw holds him in place. The movement makes his cock grind against the bottom of its mouth, rubbing against teeth that have been thankfully turned away to be blunt. It's like an electric shock. Paired with the tongue still stretching his cunt wide, he is overwhelmed and coming again.

Only then, when Emil feels like he may pass out, does Veils remove its tongue. His cunt clenches, making sloppy wet sounds. A claw holds him spread. His legs are placed back on the ground and if it weren't for the hands around his waist he would have fallen flat on his stomach. The pointed tip of Veils' cock probes his entrance. 

His throat is too dry to complain so attempts to struggle weakly. The cock is still huge and he's far too sensitive to will himself to relax. The Curator puts a massive hand between his shoulders, ceasing his movements while the other claw grips his hips. Its cock pushes in, almost gently, until it meets resistance almost instantly. It snarls and then snaps its hips forward roughly.

Emil yelps, gritting his teeth. It burns and hurts and yet the fullness shoves him right over the edge into another orgasm, a large barb on Veils' cock pressed right to his gspot. The Curator gives him no time to adjust, just pulls out and thrusts back in. It seems upset it can't fit all the way in, adjusting both of their positions to try a different angle. It feels good and aches all the same. 

"You're doing so good," the purr of Surface Veils' voice makes Emil jerk his head up. “I expected you to bleed, but you’re taking us  _ so well _ .”

He wants to formulate a sassy remark, but the Curator suddenly jerks him backwards. It falls down onto its back, cock still embedded in Emil’s cunt. The result is Emil sitting in its lap, legs spread wide and the Curator rutting up into him. It moves him up and down roughly, snarling in pleasure. It's using him like a Fleshlight. Surface Veils hums, eyes hooded as it taps the bulge of Emil’s abdomen with its cane. 

“How does he feel?” The Intriguer sounds so nonchalant. It reaches out to wipe away Emil’s tears.

“Tight.” The Curator growls, voice strained. “Warm. Wet.”

His eyes are hazy, panting as the Curator uses him. He’s crying from overstimulation, legs shaking. “Oh, come now, you can orgasm again, I know you.” The Intriguer mocks, but something about its form is wrong. It's blurred around the edges, shoulders and back shaking. A blur of energy trying not to transform. Its slacks are tented and it shifts to adjust how tight they are becoming, but it doesn't move to free its cock. 

A more youthful voice drags Emil from his daze. “Starting without me? That surely isn't how you treat a  _ god _ .”

He whines, mind burning as he realizes it's Veils of the Third City. The Curator is still thrusting, knot swelling and rubbing against his sensitive cunt. It can't fit but it tries, snarling. Third City Veils steps over it and Emil feels a second hot and slick cock. 

“You won't fit,” Emil hisses. 

“I will.” Veils insists easily. This one is more of the size he is used to from Veils but that doesn’t exactly matter when there’s already a much larger cock throbbing inside of him. But Veils from the time of the Third City cares not about Emil’s comfort. It first tries to force itself into his cunt, but with the sharp thrusts from the Curator, it can’t stay in for long. Emil pants and shudders while the Intriguer coos low words of encouragement.

“I’ve got you. Let go again for me, pet.”

He’s dizzy and overstimulated, body hot and every muscle tight. He cums again with a hoarse cry and Surface Veils chuckles. There’s a wet mess between his legs. Third City Veils finally gives up trying to fuck his cunt and instead turns its attention to his ass, pulling apart his cheeks and spitting into his hole. It rubs the pad of its thumb over the entrance and digs claws into the muscled flesh of his ass. Emil doesn't even try to protest; he’s too high on the pleasure. 

Even the Third City’s saliva makes him feel strung out, body tingling. 

“Good boy,” Surface Veils purrs, running a thumb over his quivering lower lip. Emil tries to take the finger into his mouth. Its eyes darken with lust. “Oh look at you, so well trained already. You want to touch me too, don’t you?” 

He nods but before he can form any words, Third City Veils hilts itself into his ass in one sharp thrust. He cries out but the sound is abruptly muffled by Surface Veils shoving its fingers into his mouth. The taste of the leather of its gloves is potent and he has to resist the urge to gag as Veils presses its fingers deeper into his mouth. 

“Suck.” The Intriguer commands. There is no rhythm for the Curator or the Third City Veils; they thrust ruthlessly, both of Emil’s holes stretched wide. He can feel the Curator’s cock throbbing as he sucks on the Surface’s fingers. His guts ache from the pressure. 

His ears pop from how loudly the Curator screeches when it stills deep in his cunt. Third City Veils is still moving, chittering in twisted excitement. The barbs on its cock are sharp and firm, wrecking Emil’s asshole. His eyes roll back in his skull and the heat of the cum filling his cunt makes his head jerk forward, choking himself on Surface Veils’ fingers. There is so much fluid, thick and sticky. Without being knotted, it drips messily between them, coating his thighs and even his own dick as the Curator gives a few more thrusts to make sure it's milked dry. 

The warmth spreads through him, making him gasp as, without warning, he’s instantly thrown over the edge of another climax. The Curator stays hilted as the Intriguer fists a hand into his hair and has to force his mouth off its fingers. It kneels then, pulling Emil into its own lap rather than the Curator’s. He can't help but hiss as the massive cock is removed. He can feel is cunt gaping, trying to clench back closed. 

(And Emil is too distracted, too fucked up, to comprehend the Curator suddenly ceasing to exist but there is a noticeable increase in energy in his other two partners.)

Third City Veils’ follows the movement, its own thrusts helping shove him forward. He doesn’t know when the Intriguer pulled its cock from its slacks but suddenly, both of their dicks are pressed together. 

Surface Veils’ cock is not human. The skin is dark with blood, and massive on its human frame. It easily dwarfs Emil’s natural cock that throbs from between his folds. The two of them are pressed chest to chest and Emil whines. Veils simply lets the movements of its Third City counterpart jerk Emil’s body and make their cocks rub against one another. 

And Emil is suddenly very aware his cunt is empty. “Fuck. Veils. I-I need—” he doesn't finish his sentence, moaning as Third City Veils speeds up. 

“Ah, but can I even satisfy you after you just took a beast?” The Intriguer purrs, dragging its nose along his jaw. 

“ _ Please _ ,” he begs, voice breathless. He leans up, trying to kiss Veils. It grabs his chin, keeping him away. 

“None of that yet. Keep your eyes on me. I want to watch your face as my companion uses you.” It moves a hand down to pull one of his nipples, watching his face as he shudders. 

Third City Veils growls. “Do that again. You made him tighten up.”

The Intriguer smirks, teeth too sharp. “Oh, did I?” The leather of its gloves is cool against Emil’s heated flesh as it thumbs his other nipple. He whimpers, arching his back. It traces his scars and he curses. His cock throbs, cunt clenching around nothing and the resulting noise is beyond obscene. His eyes flutter shut and it pinches his nipple in reprimand. “Keep your eyes open.”

“He likes it when you use that tone.” The Third City Veils laughs, thrusts speeding up. Its knot is fully engorged, covered in barbs that sting against Emil’s ass. His mouth hangs open as he pants.

“Don’t knot him.”

A snarl. “I know.” It jerks its hips roughly, knot nearly slipping all the way in before it pulls back out. “You just want all the fun.”

“Perhaps.” The Intriguer purrs, gloved hand moving down his stomach to stroke his cock. Emil thrusts into the touch, new tears from the oversensitivity gathering in his eyes. It tilts its head, smirking, before reaching back to spread his ass wider. Third City Veils chitters in excitement, rutting hard and deep. Each thrust draws a noise from Emil, knocking the wind out of him as he tries to keep his eyes open and locked with Surface Veils’. 

“I have a better idea.” Third City Veils stops suddenly and he nearly sobs at the loss of movement. 

Surface Veils hums, lifting Emil’s hips as its other third removes its cock. He’s jostled around, legs rearranged, and lips to his cunt spread wide by hungry claws. Then two cocks prod his entrance. His breathing hitches. The cum from the Curator helps ease them both in. Surface Veils lets out a sigh of pleasure and presses its forehead to Emil’s. He clings to the Intriguer, rocking his hips. 

“Kiss me now?” He asks softly. Third City Veils laughs at him, giving a sharp thrust that makes his voice crack when he cries out. 

“Patience,” Surface Veils growls, digging its nails into his hips. It leans down to bite and suck at his neck while its Third City companion continues to fuck him. Surface Veils gives random rolls of its hips, driving its own cock right into his gspot. 

“Not as tight as his ass, but—” a snarl that could be a curse, “—Much, much, wetter. It’s good—  _ fuck _ — good to plug him up too. Dripping like he’s in heat.”

“Keeps the Curator seed in him too.” Even Surface Veils’ voice is starting to become labored.

“Are you going to cum before me, old man?”

“It’s this damned form. Too small,” it snaps back. 

“Don’t throw your back out. Here, let me,” Third City Veils purrs, putting more power into its movements, bouncing Emil in the Intriguer’s lap. The sounds are sloppy and loud and he can’t do anything but take it, cunt convulsing as he gets close again. He feels like he’s going to pass out, vision blurred and body sore, but he’s kept awake simply by the pure will of Parabola and his partners. 

It doesn’t take long with how fast the Third City Veils fucks him for it to cum. It sinks its teeth into Emil’s shoulder, holding him still as it fills him with a sharp snarl. He shudders, unable to stop his own body from reacting to the sudden intrusion of more hot semen. His legs quiver but he’s not able to cum again. It cums for what feels like an eternity, until his is stomach is bloated. Then it falls back, panting. It does not speak as it cock slips free but the Surface Veils shifts. 

Surface Veils’ feels bigger, easily filling his hole and preventing him from leaking. Emil whines, head pressed to its chest. “Just us now.” The Intriguer says, voice soft as it hooks a finger up under his chin and pulls his head up. 

“Veils…” he breathes weakly but then it's kissing him, hungry and wild. It twines its hands in his hair, holding him into the kiss. Emil can’t help but roll his hips. The kiss is messy and rough but it makes his head spin. Veils’ saliva is addicting, as is the way it moves its lips over his. Soft, human lips that meld to his and makes his legs shake. 

Emil’s heart is beating too fast. He tries to pull away from the kiss, feeling too dizzy, but Veils growls and holds him there. It kisses him harder, teeth seeming to grow sharper as it nips at his bottom lip. It sucks at his lip, nails turning into claws as it helps him move on its cock. It's slow and deep but Emil cums from it all the same. It's only then that Veils breaks the kiss. It keeps their foreheads together as it thrusts up into him. 

“You are so so so good to me,” Veils whispers. “Giving me such a good hunt.”

Emil hiccups, crying softly. “I didn’t want the bomb to hurt you. I tried to stop her.”

“Shh,” it coos, “You’re putting me back together. Can’t you feel it?” It jerks its hips sharply and he can feel how much larger and inhuman its cock is. Emil curses, grinding his own hips downward. 

“I was scared I was going to lose you.” He mumbles and Veils kisses him again, softer. It doesn’t want to hear it, not right now when it’s cock deep in him. They move in sync, silent besides their own panting. Emil bracing himself on Veils’ shoulders to ride him and Veils meeting each movement. They can’t keep their lips off each other, exchanging sloppy kisses. 

Veils’ form is changing as it gets close, skin tighter and joints sharper. Emil can feel its cock pulsing and growing inside of him and his breathing hitches. 

“Close your eyes.” Veils says through clenched teeth. 

Emil nods, burying his face into the crook of Veils’ neck and squeezing his eyes shut. “Breed me. Make me yours.”

It chuckles breathlessly. “You already are.” Emil responds by clenching his cunt and it curses in the Correspondence. “Bloody— Yes,  _ fine _ , and perhaps I’m yours too.” It adds hastily, shivering in pleasure. “Do that again.”

It only takes him a few times of tightening his muscles for Veils to cum. It holds him tightly, moaning out his name. Hearing his name from Veils makes his whole body tense, coming for the final time right along with Veils.

With his eyes shut he can’t see what happens then, but he feels fur start to grow along Veils body. When the sound of bones cracking starts, he has to use all his will power to keep his eyes closed. And then its knot spreads him wide. He yelps, having not expected it. His cunt locks around it and he feels his own body start to ache. He’s filled with a third load of cum and it makes his skin feel tight. His shoulders ache and his skin feels hot.

It’s only then he realizes what Veils meant before. 

“Your cum is turning me into a Curator?” Emil snaps, shocked. His eyes shoot open so he can look up at Veils. It’s back to normal, mostly, still grinding up into his cunt. It has more scars, and its body seems a bit smaller. It seems to have one ear pretty ripped up. 

It flashes him a smirk, bouncing Emil in its lap with a rough thrust. He can’t help but moan. 

“A  _ Master _ ,” Veils corrects. “You stole a lot of my power. You’ll need to do most of my work for me.” He wants to argue more but a sudden wave of exhaustion hits him, all the tiredness Veils had been keeping at bay. “We’re tied for a while. Rest now. When you wake up, I’ll see about getting you that reward for the Vake.” It teases. 

Emil huffs but is too boneless to fight. Veils holds him close, humming him to sleep. Its wings weigh him down, easing away the anxiety of the long day. 


End file.
